Absolution
by Narsus
Summary: Jones' perception of infallibility. Set at the end of the 1st movie. (Companion piece to "Dissolution".)


**Absolution**

Disclaimer: They belong to the Wachowski brothers, Time-Warner and whoever else…

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            We are fleeing, the human; our supposed prey.  It seems that we have been out manoeuvred… somehow.  This human; Anderson has achieved the impossible.  And so we flee.  Though this very action of retreat may yet be our last function.

            The System 'watches' all our actions, every choice, every decision that we make in order to best serve.  And we may be erased for our current action.

Yet, there is no such thing as arbitrary cruelty, not for us, not for our kind.  The System judges and guides all as it should be.  There is nothing to fear in the discharge of such justice.

            We have served faithfully, to the limit of our abilities.  And isn't that what all existence would wish for, both synthetic and organic, to acknowledge a greater purpose?  To give their all for a single, blinding moment of revelation, to be lifted above every petty care and concern… if only for that individual moment?  It is that perfect clarity that humans have spent the endless march of centuries searching for.  From the beginning of their existence, until their inevitable end they will search for that brief glimpse of understanding that has forever eluded them.

            Then how much more favoured are we, that the System permits us to understand?  We are granted not some fractional glimpse of a mythological destiny but the inherent truth of our world.  The very purpose of our being, our function permeates every segment of our code.  We will never be cast adrift without any knowledge of that which we are.  It is impossible to forget that we serve a greater purpose, impossible not to desire to serve.

            So in this chaos, this disruption that has arisen there is nothing to fear.  This human anomaly that cries out in defiance of the System is no great terror.

It… he… this human, Anderson.

We can not conquer it, not yet.  Perhaps not ever.  But, it is no Morning Star risen to begin the final war between Order and Chaos.  It is merely an aberration, an unnoticed glitch that has been allowed to fester.  Or perhaps it is not; perhaps it is simply acting out its part, as prescribed by the System.

            It is possible that the System has granted this one human that single moment of perception that they all crave, gifted this one with the clarity to perceive a greater destiny than its fellows.  It is possible.

And our lack of understanding of the human's purpose is simply the will of the System.  We are meant to fulfil our own purpose and perhaps our lack of understanding will allow us to do so with greater accuracy.

            We do not question, there is nothing for us to understand that we are not already given to know.

            Yet… as we flee in opposing directions, the ties that bind stretching out between us, those selfsame bindings seem to contract.  I can feel my pace slowing, as if I might suddenly be pulled backwards and find myself slammed into Brown.  It feels as if the fabric of our reality is shifting in ways that it was not designed to.  But surely there is nothing that a human could accomplish, that would not be compensated for by the System?  Not even the greatest programmers of the previous age; those who created us before we surpassed them, should be capable of this.  Is it possible that this is something we have not anticipated?

            I will fight that possibility, just as I will not acknowledge the possibility of Smith's destruction.  The will of the System is an inevitability, we are that inevitability realised.  And yet, there is an echo, a whisper in my mind that twists in upon itself.  That suggests that perhaps, this once, that inevitable master plan which directs all our actions might be flawed.

            And this time when the code contracts it is almost painful.  Is this the punishment for heresy?  I can make no sense of my movement.  My relation to the physical construct blurs.  The geometric validation of velocity and direction become meaningless.  Everything tilts at unforgiving angles.  There is no redemption in the sliding streams of code.

            Strangely, I find myself falling, stumbling into something.

Brown's cry of distress resonates, unnaturally loud.  His code is fragmenting, falling into nothing before me.  When did my path loop back towards his?  Perhaps this is how it must be; when one falls, so must the rest.  Is Smith then, truly gone?

It seems only an academic question now.

            We are falling, into nothing, breaking apart into our basest components.  And, for some unacknowledged reason, I reach out and catch hold of Brown's hand as vertigo overwhelms me; as we fall.

The darkness is all encompassing and soon there will not even be that.

Suddenly there is sound in the darkness and a brightness, like the after-image of flaming wings.  Something rises from the emptiness into which we will soon fall and with its birth my faith is restored.

It would seem that our Lucifer has risen.

And in the darkness we will find redemption… absolution…

"Forgive me…"

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Yes, he does mean Smith with the last Lucifer reference.

16:03, 01/07/03


End file.
